


Stuck Inside of a Forest with the Idiot Band Again

by clairvoyantrat



Category: The Travelling Wilburys (Band)
Genre: Don’t Judge Me, Fluff, Gen, I’ve never been camping honestly but this made me hate it, Jeff.... gently holds, M/M, Slow Burn, bob hates it here, camping sucks, dylarrison, i didn’t know I wanted to touch Bob’s hair so desperately, its a oneshot what can I say, kind of? Not really Idk, sunshine George sad smiley face, this is a mess, tom is a literal child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairvoyantrat/pseuds/clairvoyantrat
Summary: “I hate you guys.”OR:Bob gets dragged to a camping trip with his band members.
Relationships: Bob Dylan/George Harrison
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Stuck Inside of a Forest with the Idiot Band Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! <3  
> I love the Wilburys with my whole heart & the fandom seems to be a bit dead atm, so I decided to write a little something with them :)  
> I apologize for possible mistakes throughout the story, as English isn’t my first language and I wrote some of this at night or very early so I was very tired :’)  
> I don’t want to talk too much though, so that’s all you’ll hear from me for now - enjoy!

“Come on Bob, this is going to be fun!“ George pulled on bob's sleeve, but the latter didnt move a bit.

“George... Do I look like I’d waste my time sleeping in a  _ tent  _ when I could easily do that in my own bed as well?” Bob didn’t bother waiting for an answer and continued, “So, if you were kind enough to let go of my sleeve... I’d like to go inside again. It’s cold.”

George crossed his arms. His dark eyes looked down at Bob, he was sulking at this point. “Look,” he said. “I planned all of this out. I actually expected something like this.”

Bob furrowed his eyebrows. “Like what?”

“You not wanting to go on this trip because you’d miss your bed?” A soft laugh left George’s lips before he continued, “So, I packed lots of blankets and pillows for you to feel at home.”

The shorter man couldn’t stand looking at George any longer, so he let his shoulders fall down and took a step forward. “Okay,  _fine_.  I’ll go.”

In the corner of his eye, Bob could see George jumping up a little - he wasn’t sure if he’d just made that up though. “Great! We’ll have lots of fun, I promise!” A quick glance over at George, who was now next to him and gently shoving him towards the van, was enough to see the huge grin he was wearing on his face.

The van’s doors were already open, as if the others had only waited for Bob to come. All George did was push the shorter man onto the back seat before he closed the door and took the spot next to their driver, Jeff. So now, Bob was left alone with Tom, who was already smiling excitedly like a little child. How could he do that to him?

“Do you want me to die over here?” Bob grumbled, squinting at George.

“Sorry Bobby,” he laughed. “But someone’s gotta manage the music.” He held up a cassette. “I made a mixtape!”

Jeff seemed amused. He looked at Tom and Bob through the mirror, “Can we start now?”

“Wait Jeff,” George muttered as he fiddled with his cassette, trying to fit it into its place. He seemed pleased and leaned back when the music started playing. “ _ Now  _ we can start.”

Bob regretted agreeing to this the very second Jeff started the car.

Tom started pulling out snacks from a huge bag, and Bob knew the crackling of the paper was going to drive him mad. A few minutes in, he had to hold back the urge to snap the bag out of Tom‘s hands so he‘d be quiet, but he’d probably cry. Or start talking or singing, so the fact that he was just busy eating his chocolate and chips was a relief, honestly.

Meanwhile, George was listing all the  _ fun things  _ they were going to do, Jeff was humming along to the music, and Bob let out a deep sigh from time to time to show the others how much he hated this trip.

“... And we’ll sit by a campfire and play some songs - I brought guitars - and eat marshmallows and then we’ll watch the stars and-  _ Oh _ .” George was interrupted by a sudden burst of rain.

That was the most rain Bob had seen in a while, he really expected the car to be washed away by it or something.

“Hey, don’t get discouraged,” Jeff smiled at George. “We’re going to be driving for quite a while. I’m sure the rain will have gone away when we arrive.”

Tom nodded and put another handful of chips in his mouth, “You’re so right.”

“Did your mother not teach you to not talk while eating?” Bob hissed.

“No, sorry. You want some?” Tom held out his bag of chips. Touching something that was probably full of Tom’s saliva wasn’t a very pleasant thing to think of.

“No thanks,” Bob muttered. He stared out of the window, watched the raindrops hit the glass. Something told him the rain wasn’t going to end. 

***

...And he was right.

Jeff parked the car somewhere in a forest, and just the fact that it was in a forest told Bob that George must’ve picked that location.

“I’m sure the rain will have gone away when we arrive,” Bob mocked Jeff, adding a bitter yet amused laugh.

“What are we going to do now?” Tom asked. He had put his food aside for the last half of the car drive, which was both a surprise and a relief for Bob, since he hadn’t said much either.

“We can wait?" Jeff suggested. “Maybe the rain will pass.”

“Last time you said that it didn’t end well,” Bob commented.

George, though, smiled weakly. “I don’t think rain is that much of a bad thing.” He unbuckled his seat belt and it was only a matter of seconds until he was outside in the rain, arms spread out widely.

“Hey,” Bob leaned over to Tom. “You got some popcorn?”

“Yeah, wait...” Tom grabbed his snack bag and his arm disappeared in it for a while before pulling out a small bag of popcorn. “There you go!”

Bob shook his head, but took the bag anyway. “‘t was a joke man. Thanks though.” He opened the bag and stuffed some popcorn in his mouth while watching George dance around in the rain.

Jeff leaned forward and rolled open the window on George’s side. “George, come in! You’re soaking wet!”

When George came dancing back to the van, the rain seemed to get less. Maybe George was doing some kind of ‘rain, rain, go away’-dance. He, too, looked surprised at its sudden disapperance though.

“The rain is gone!” he laughed, and he turned around as if he’d wanted to hug the whole planet.

Bob shoved some popcorn into his mouth to hide a smile.

“See, I told you it’ll pass!” Jeff cheered, radiating almost the same amount of happiness as George. Not quite.

Tom quickly unbuckled his seat belt and jumped up. “Can we build up the tents now?”

“What if it starts raining again?” Bob asked, chewing on a single piece of popcorn.

Jeff shook his head. “I don’t think it will. It’s rained so much...”

“Maybe the ground needed it,” George interrupted him. “I agree though. I feel like it’ll be fine now.  _So_... That means we can start all our fun activities!”

“Great...” Bob muttered.

“Come on, you have to get out the van too!” George looked at him through the window, and it had Bob asking himself when he got there. And also, when had everyone else left the car?!

Another one of his deep sighs left Bob’s mouth as he also unbuckled his seat belt and left the van. The door fell shut with a loud noise, making the others immediately turn to him. “Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled. “What should I do?”

George pressed a bundle-like...  _ thing _ against Bob’s chest. “You can unpack this.”

“What is that?” The older man eyed the object in his hands before looking back at George in confusion.

“ _ That  _ is our tent,” he chuckled, and Bob suddenly felt the urge to stuff his mouth with popcorn again. “But worry not, I’ll help you build it up.”

Jeff and Tom were already busy with their own tent, as Bob soon realized. Something inside of him wanted to be faster than them, so he quickly unpacked everything inside of the packaging.

Building up the tent turned out to be much more exhausting than it looked. The ground was still wet and muddy from the rain and adding to that, Bob had never even touched a tent before. In fact, it was George who did most of the work, because every time Bob came near their new place to sleep it either collapsed or he slipped. He internally cursed the ground for being so slippery, because he couldn’t remember his clothes ever being  _ that  _ dirty. But ‘that’s nature,’ George said.

In the end, Tom and Jeff had been faster and left Bob feeling disappointed and weak. He’d never wanted to go home more. 

Well, at least their tent looked cozier than Tom and Jeff’s, which was a little success and more than nothing. Still, that was only George’s fault, because he was the one who had brought the pillows and blankets. 

***

Bob felt something slowly shaking him awake, and as if that weren’t enough, his blanket got removed, too. “What the fuck," he mumbled, trying to grab the blanket again.

While he was at it, he tried to remember what had happened before he fell asleep. It took a while until it came to him - he had just wanted to try out that pile of pillows and blankets George had brought with them, but it seemed he’d just fallen asleep on the spot.

“Wake up now Bobby,” a voice demanded. It belonged to none other than George, and even though he was whining like a little child, it sounded just as soft and soothing as ever.

The older man hid his face in the pillow. “Too tired.”

“You’re always tired.” He felt something poking his cheek repeatedly, so eventually he gave in, turned his head and blinked at the blurry figure sitting next to him. Only after a few seconds it could be properly identified as George. He poked Bob’s cheek again. “Come on, we’re making food.”

“Not hungry.” Bob buried his face in the pillow again. He could’ve fallen asleep again right there.

“But we have marshmallows!” George exclaimed. “Come on now.” He pushed the blanket away a bit further and slid his hands beneath Bob’s body.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled, the only answer being George gently picking him up. Still, Bob tried everything to free himself from George’s grip. He was a grown man, this was pathetic. “Let me down,  _ George _ , please. I’ll walk, okay? I’ll walk.”

Those words seemed to satisfy George, so he quickly let the shorter man down again and crawled out of the tent. The other came following after. He straightened up, a pounding headache spreading through his head. He should’ve just stayed in the tent, really.

“G’morning Bob!” he heard Tom yell. His head rapidly turned in his direction. Him and Jeff were sitting around a campfire, Tom eagerly waving over to the shortest of them all. Bob remembered what George had said in the van.  _Oh god_.  He squinted, trying to make out the other shapes around the fire, when George’s hand suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled him over to the others.

Someone had placed four pillows around the fire for them to sit on, and something about the way they looked and the way they were arranged told him it was George who did it.

Bob let himself fall onto a pillow next to Jeff and a guitar. They were  _ really  _ going to play songs there.

It took George a while to sit down too. He had an abnormally big bag of marshmallows with him and handed a stick to everyone.

Bob hated this part. Holding the marshmallows into the fire and waiting for them to turn into the right color, but then it’s just a matter of seconds until they get burnt. Eating them was just as much of an emotional rollercoaster, with the emotions being anger and... more anger. The marshmallows were  _ always  _ hot enough to burn your mouth. And when you did try to eat them, all they did was stick to whatever they’d been stuck on.

“Bob!” Jeff snapped him out of his train of thought. He was holding the marshmallow bag out to him, probably expecting him to take one or two. Everyone else seemed to have theirs already.

Throughout all of this trip, Bon had been the mood killer. Not wanting to eat the marshmallows wouldn’t make that much of a difference, he figured. “Nah, I’m good.”

“I say Bob should sing more songs then,” Tom suggested, already chewing on a marshmallow. “That’s only fair.”

George just shook his head. “No no, it’s fine.” He turned his head to look at Bob. “But at least two songs, okay?” A kind smile formed on his lips, making Bob’s whole body give in.

He gave him a slight nod. “Yeah, okay.”

Immediately when he said those words, Tom burst out in laughter. Bob turned to Jeff for help. His expression must have said something like, 'Why the fuck is the kid laughing?', because Jeff answered right away. “We were actually just going to do one song each.”

_Fuck_.  “I hate you guys,” Bob muttered to himself. He sighed and started drawing in the ground with his stick to pass the time.

“You could play your songs while we’re eating," George said after a while. “You’ll be done earlier then.” He poked Bob’s arm with his stick.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbled. After a while, though, George staring at him was getting uncomfortable, so Bob picked up the guitar next to him. “You can stop looking now.” In the corner of his eye, Bob saw Tom moving. Turns out he had raised his hand like a kid in class who wanted to ask a question. “The heck you want?”

“Do you take requests?”

“No. Your marshmallow is black, by the way,” Bob said while pointing to Tom’s stick that was a bit (much) too far in the fire.

Tom hastily pulled his marshmallow stick out. “Noo!” he whined. “My poor marshmallow...”

A hoarse chuckle left Bob’s mouth as he dedicated all his attention to the guitar in his hands and started picking on the strings.

“Can you play ‘Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right’?” George blinked at him and something inside of Bob told him to say no, just for the sake of it. Being a grumpy middle-aged man was exhausting sometimes.

“Still don’t take requests. I’d take one from Jeff maybe, he’s been a good kid.” He smirked and kept playing some chords on the guitar, no song, just playing whatever came to mind.

It was the look that George and Jeff gave each other that gave it away. “I’d love to hear ‘Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right’, honestly.”

“Fine.”

And while he played, he felt all of their looks on him, as if their eyes had been glued onto him. The thought of that made Bob smirk - but just a little. It probably, hopefully, wasn’t visible to the others.

When he was finished with the song, they seemed to be finished with eating, since they all had put their sticks and marshmallows aside. The fact that they were all staring at him now would have been embarrassing, if he hadn’t been used to that.

He looked up with tired eyes, “Anyone else wanna hear a song now?”

Tom nodded enthusiastically. “Me!”

“I don’t have a song called ‘me’?”

“You have one called ‘My Back Pages’, though.”

Bob sighed. “I guess so, yeah.” A wide smile filled not only Tom’s, but also Jeff and George’s faces when he started playing. 

***

The rest of the time spent by the fire passed so quickly, Bob was surprised when the others got up and put the guitars back in the van.

_Just when he had gotten used to this_.

He hadn’t listened to much of what the others had sung, but as far as he could remember, Tom sang some traditional campfire song - at least that’s what it sounded like - and he  _didn’t_ feel the urge to strangle him in his sleep after.

While passing his time warming his hands with the fire, Bob overheard a conversation coming from the van.

“George, I know you planned to watch the stars and all that, but it’s late and I’m tired and-“

“Don’t worry about it Jeff, you can sleep whenever you need to.” 

Bob allowed himself to glance over at George for a little while, only to find him smiling his big, encouraging George smile. Suddenly the fire wasn’t the only thing warming him, and although he couldn’t exactly put his finger on what it was, Bob believed it was George.

Even though he had turned his head to the campfire again, Bob still heard George dropping some words from time to time. He was talking about hugs as it seemed, which was alright, but when he told Tom and Jeff how much he loved them and how they were the light of his life or something along those lines, Bob felt his heart clenching inside his chest.

Not long after, he watched Jeff and Tom rush by and crawl into their tent, leaving him only waiting for the van's doors falling shut and George coming back.

He knew this feeling. He’d always had a soft spot for George, if you could call it that. Despite him being a pissed piece of shit sometimes, most times, actually, George was always there for him. And most of all, he was  _nice_ to him. He didn’t seem to question anything about him, just accepted him as he was. That was nice.

George was really the best friend he’d had in quite a while. Several years, actually. Maybe it was selfish, but sometimes he wanted to have him just for himself.

George interrupted Bob’s train of thought by flopping down on the pillow next to him.

“Guess it’s just the two of us now, huh?” Bob spoke up, staring at the fire.

“You can go to sleep, too, if you want.” When Bob replied “I’m not tired right now,” George’s head turned. “Who are you? And what did you do to Bobby?”

They both laughed, until the older man started speaking again. “You said you wanted to watch the stars?”

“Oh, yeah, but you don’t have to do it.”

“I want to though.”

***

There they sat, leaning onto a big tree and staring up in the sky.

“I’m glad you didn’t fall asleep again,” George said quietly after a while of pleasant silence. He didn’t wait for a response, which was good, since Bob didn’t really know what to say. Instead, George kept talking, “I really wanted you to see this.”

“Uh.” Bob tried sorting his words before saying something proper. “That sky looks very good, yes.” He knew what he was going to say would sound weird, but this had really sounded better in his head.

His friend chuckled softly. “Just like you,” he added. It was probably meant as a joke, but still enough to make Bob blush like crazy.

“D’you say that to all of your dates?”

“This is a date?”

“Ah, uhm. Fuck, forget it.” Bob regretted ever saying anything, and the fact that George didn’t reply made everything worse. It felt like you could cut the air with a knife.

That feeling passed, though, as soon as the taller man put his arm around Bob’s shoulders, gently pulling him closer.

“I don’t hate you, by the way,” George muttered after a few seconds.

“I- what? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I know.” George’s thumb was caressing Bob’s shoulder at this point, leaving the latter flustered and at a loss for words.

“It’s more like the opposite.”

It felt natural for Bob to not say anything, but rather move closer towards his friend and cuddle up to him. He wasn’t very cuddly or affectionate most times, so he supposed this would do as an answer. Almost immediately he could feel George hiding his face in his curls.

Not wanting to fall asleep in this position, Bob eventually turned his head to look up at George. He could see the stars reflecting in his dark eyes, and felt his heart beating faster. He was truly gorgeous.

It happened so fast.

The space between their faces got smaller and smaller, until Bob took the last step and placed a soft kiss near the corner of George’s mouth. When the latter pulled him closer to press another kiss on his lips, Bob’s heart felt like it was about to explode.

George’s hands were now buried in his hair, gently pulling at his curls while deepening their kiss. Their tongues worked together perfectly, as if they had just been waiting for this moment.

And suddenly, being two middle-aged men french kissing in some forest in the middle of nowhere didn’t seem as weird as it sounded anymore.

They were both out of breath when Bob pulled away, George still holding onto his hair. He couldn’t suppress a smile, to which the other replied with an even bigger one.

And that was that.

“I, uhm. I’d like to sleep now,” Bob blurted out. So  _fitting_.

George only laughed in response, but soon got up and held out his hand for the other.

They both crawled into their tent, just to find the mess of pillows and blankets they had left before. They took off their dirty shoes, George then neatly putting them into a corner of the tent. 

Not bothering to say any more, Bob collapsed on the exact place he’d slept on earlier. He felt his eyes fall shut as his body got covered by one of the blankets. “If you steal ‘em, I’ll put my feet on you,” he mumbled into the pillow.

He didn’t even have to look to know that George was smiling. He could feel it. “Oh, I don’t mind.” Instead of taking the blankets, though, he just wrapped his arms around already half-asleep Bob and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Good night Bobby.”

Maybe the camping trip hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi 😸😸 I hope you’ve read this far & that you enjoyed my little fic. I haven’t written anything serious in?? So long??? + I’m not used to ao3 like, AT ALL... So i apologize if this is a little all over the place sometimes.  
> Anyways - that’s all i had to say, really...  
> I hope everyone reading this had a lovely day<3


End file.
